Eyes of the Devil
by KrazyKeke
Summary: There are always two choices. Two paths to take. One is easy. And its only reward is that it's easy. Harry has always taken the path less traveled, walked where angels fear to tread. He's a survivor, and it shows. AU. Graphic slash.
1. Chapter 1

**X-Men Origins: Basilisk**

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or X-Men characters that appears in this story, I merely warp them to suit my needs, and think about various plot lines in which I can mold them to do my bidding without them being too OOC

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><p>"When you have to kill a man it costs nothing to be polite."<p>

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><p><strong>Prologue<strong>

_(Dursely Plantation, Houston, Texas, 1844)_

A young boy, about nine or ten, with short and unruly black hair, slightly pudgy cheeks, flush with excitement, and the deepest, most unique shade of viridian ever seen on a person, even if they were hidden behind his glasses, happily skipped in between an older version of himself, obviously the father, and a beautiful woman with long, fiery red hair, her eyes the exact same shade as her the boy who was obviously her son.

"Mom, Dad, we've never been to the South, it's so different from back home!" The boy exclaimed. "I don't understand why Aunt Petunia needed so many of those dark skinned folk to help her around the house though…"

The boy's mother and father shared troubled glances over the child's head, contemplating what to tell him. Finally, the boy's father decided the truth would be best; after all, they didn't raise their son on lies. "That's because we don't have slaves, little Hadrian."

Hadrian frowned, still confused. He wasn't a stupid boy, and he was often praised that he understood the unspoken words people didn't say, he could clearly sense the undercurrent of anger, yet resignation in his parents' words. "What's a slave, and I told you to call me Harry, please Dad?"

"A slave is looked down on and treated as less than a person. Most see slaves as just extra cattle or wood, and buy them at auctions like I buy bread and butter." It was not his father that answered; it was his mother who was much more patient and thorough with explanations or at least so he'd understand.

"B-But, that's wrong." Hadrian, or Harry as he preferred, stuttered, looking up at them and they were guiltily shifting their gaze elsewhere. "It's wrong, you can't _buy_ a person!" At that moment, a little black girl, only a couple years older than Harry, carrying a large sack of hay, was passing by, her eyes submissively lowered. "Hey, you're not a slave, are you?" he half demanded, half pleaded.

The girl looked at him wide-eyed, then at his parents and then back to Harry. "No…sir?" As per her mistress' demands, she wasn't to reveal that she was a slave to her mistress' sister and family, and if she did, she'd get in serious trouble.

"Harry, you're going to get that little girl in trouble, leave her be, boy." Harry's father said sternly."Listen to your father, Hadrian James Potter." His mother added when Harry looked like he wanted to protest.

"I's best being on my way now, sirs, m'am." The little black girl bowed a little and then hurried off as fast as she could without looking like she was running away, her mistress' extended family was strange! To think he'd ask such a question, as if he'd never…seen a slave before? 'Nah, he's probably just a little slow. Who ain't seen a Negro slave?' the girl thought to herself bitterly.

"I know you're angry, son. But, if you really want to make a difference, its best to do right by others…like her, that way they don't feel so resentful." Patting his head in a placating motion, Lily Potter could only shake her head at her son's frustrated face, James was much the same and didn't want to stay on the plantation for too long, considering the fact his brother-in-law, sister-in-law, and nephew disgusted him with their arrogant and obnoxious manners.

What could she do though; she'd grown up on this plantation with her own mother, father, and sister, Petunia? Things were much better, the slaves much happier, although she hadn't been aware that was their status until she was almost grown, and by then she'd moved up North, meeting James who was the son of a wealthy banker and they'd married, having Hadrian, or Harry as he constantly reminded them.

It was only this once she'd returned home to see her sister and meet her family, but to see things in such deplorable condition…

"You end up like these unrepentant heathens and I'll put you over my knee, regardless of your age." James muttered darkly, Lily pinched him and Harry squeaked in terror.

(1861)

'I'm going to need some of that infamous Potter luck, Dad, if you're up there in Heaven with Mama…' Hadrian Potter, officially known as 'Harry Patterson' seeing as the Potter Bank was well known and would receive unnecessary attention if he'd registered by his real name, had enlisted in the war, wanting to do something right.

Tucking his cross underneath his collar, he took a deep, steadying breath, trying to calm his nerves, he grunted as something slammed into him… "Damn it, watch yourself you clumsy kid!" Hurrying to his feet, he saw a dark haired male with matching dark eyes; he was too paranoid and worried about his own survival to be actively paying attention to details, plus it was dark.

"Kill ya… I'm gonna kill ya sons of bitches!" A familiar voice roared. He barely had time to catch his breath before a meaty hand clamped around his throat, cutting off his oxygen supply, lifting him off his feet and for a fleeting moment, cursed his short stature. He came face to face with... "Harry?" The face of his only elder cousin peered at him in shocked confusion for a second before the warped rage marred his visage once again. "Once you're dead, I'll be entitled to the deed owning the land back home…"

Seeing that his vision was beginning to blur from the lack of oxygen, and his only weapon was just out of reach, he almost resigned himself to being strangled by his previously thought useless cousin, but that wasn't his style. Kicking Dudley once, twice in the chest, his booted feet making the large man grunt and tighten his hold; with his free hand he pulled out a knife, about to plunge it in Harry's heart…

Bang! Blood splattered Harry's face and he nearly fell as Dudley suddenly slumped over him. Letting a mute cry of distress, he pushed his cousin off of him, not needing to check his pulse, already aware he was dead, but who…

"No time to mourn, kid. Do that later." The man said gruffly. Harry nodded, grabbing his weapon and then after a small hesitation, the dagger his cousin intended to kill him with. "Come on, I can see you're going to need watching for awhile."

"Who's the shrimp, Runt?" A larger, decidedly more terrifying man, who sort of looked like his savior if Harry squinted, only his hair was short beneath his helmet and lighter, he had a goatee, and his incisors were very sharp, there was this vibe about him, that screamed 'Danger!'.

"It's Harry, sir." Harry shouted over the noise of bullets and dying screams, he wondered if he was still out of it.

"Don't call us 'sir'. That's my brother, Victor. Victor, this is Harry, Harry, I'm James." The shorter male made introductions quickly. "Let's do this thing."

And just like that, a brittle bond had been formed. Harry couldn't help but like them, James was a gruff instructor and brother-in-arms, alternating between providing cover for him while they were under heavy fire and letting him do his own thing with his stolen dagger, he realized that he was best at slitting throats and severing spinal cords under the shade of night than using weaponry.

Victor was…hard to describe, he was crass and seemed single-minded, but he often bailed him out of no-win situations, ripping through the enemy's defenses like an unstoppable force and more often than not, Harry was just along to clean up the excess survivors.

All in all, he felt comfortable enough with them to joke occasionally and tell them little tidbits about himself, not enough to suspect him to be anyone other than 'Harry', but still, better safe than sorry. Once the war ended, he took a leap of blind faith and gave them his mailing address, instructing them to write every once in awhile, not that he expected them to.

Harry returned to his duties as the heir of Potter Bank and threw himself into work in order to avoid the inevitable fight he would get into with his remaining relatives, he still had the deed to 'Dursely' Plantation and while knowing that eventually he'd have to face them, there was no way he'd do it on their time.

He didn't receive any letters from James or Victor in the passing months, and he wasn't surprised. While he wasn't working, Harry worked on his garden, pulling weeds and planting flowers, occasionally, he'd attempt some poetry but deemed it unsuitable and hid it where no one would ever find it. He found a couple friends to pass the monotony his life had fallen into: Henrietta Greenwood, Leila Loris, and Nickolas Levi. But in truth, he was just waiting, even though he didn't know for _what_ exactly.

(January 1st, 1866)

"Come on, Hadrian. Have a drink, you're so stiff." Fairly intoxicated himself for once, calm, cool, dependable Nickolas was laughing raucously, a glass of ale in hand. Harry rolled his eyes and removed his arm, making him flail his limbs dramatically as he almost toppled over until the brunette caught the man by his forearm and steadied him. "You know what I heard; I heard you were marrying that Guinevere woman. Is it true?"

"Guinevere, as in _the_ Guinevere Wessel?" Harry snorted. "No thanks, I hear that girl spreads her legs for any man, I don't want to contact any incurable sickness."

"Maybe a woman isn't what you need, then?" Although the question was likely meant to be 'innocent', and Nickolas was **meant** to be drunk off his ass, at the moment, he was dead sober. Taking a small sip of his drink for courage, Harry raised a brow, daring him to continue. "I've never been to your house."

"'Bout time you see it anyway. Let's leave the ladies, they're occupied anyway."

Although he'd laid with a woman before, being with a man, something so forbidden, taboo, was extremely fun, but not very different, you just put your cock in a different hole. It hurt at first, and then it felt really good. 'Perhaps he's what I've been waiting for?'

Being with Nickolas was easy, he was so patient, kind, and understanding, but had a hidden wicked streak. There was always an adventure with him, never a dull moment in the passing months that felt like seconds, days. He could see himself spending his life with the other man, and just as he was about to make their togetherness official, on the anniversary of his parents death, the fairytale he was living in ended.

"Give us the deed to our land or I'll blow this boy's head clean off." His obese uncle, Vernon Dursely, threatened Harry, the barrel of his gun leveled at Nickolas' head. Petunia, pale and stunned as she was, showed amazing solidarity to her husband, she stood in the way of any escape routes, which was only the front door, really.

"Let's just calm down, ok? We don't want there to be an accident, that'd be messy in court." Harry said calmly, although his heart felt like it was about to beat out of his chest.

"You're right." Vernon matched his tone, although his eyes were glinting with something akin to madness. "Tuney, darling, why don't you show this young man Dudder's pet which we've been raising in his honor?"

"A-Are you certain, dear? I'm sure the boy has the deed, there's no need for such extremes." Petunia asked hesitantly, her hand gripping her bag. Vernon simply eyed her, and with a shudder, she removed a container that held a python from her purse, Nickolas paled and Harry stilled. "Dear?"

"Let it loose, you infernal woman!" "No, Aunt Petunia!"

Petunia set the dangerous creature down and out of its cage, flinging herself away and out of reach. The snake, irritated by all the jostling, struck fast at the nearest target which happened to be Nickolas. Vaguely, Harry was aware of someone screaming, and absentmindedly, he realized it was him, and then he felt his awareness trickle away and he blacked out momentarily.

When he came to, Nickolas' eyes were glazed over, and he was dead, there was no mistaking it. There was a curious lack of sound in his ears, and he felt like a spectator outside his body as he sat up, smelling a strange scent… 'Gas.' His mind supplied. Vernon was tearing apart his house, screaming at a weeping Petunia, they were looking for the deed. But, Nickolas was gone, so why should they be rewarded?

The python slithered in front of him, looking at him with serpentine eyes. [Poor two-legger. You're going to die.]

[I'm not going to die. They are.] Harry hissed back, he stood up drunkenly, Petunia looked uncomfortable and frightened. "Wwwwhats wrong, Aunty?" he cackled a little madly. "You look scared? Aren't I your **favorite** nephew?"

"Boy, get away from my—ggh!" From his throat protruded Harry's spoils of war, his treasured dagger. Leaping across the room, Harry forced it deeper, and then twisted and yanked it out, blood spraying through the air, body flailing, Vernon knocked over an oil lamp, setting the house ablaze.

"Let's play, Aunty, let's play, playplayplay_**play**_!" Petunia screamed shortly and then Harry was upon her. Afterwards, he lifted Nickolas' body as if it was the most precious thing in the world, Harry looked at the python indifferently, his once bright eyes darker with a hint of contained insanity. [If you're coming, we should go now.]

[What a strange two-legger you are. But I find I like you, I am Soria…] Twisting around Harry's outstretched arm, they exited out the front door, disappearing into the forests and lost to the rest of the town.

Hadrian Potter was declared officially deceased a week after his body was never recovered and his property seized by the government, however 'Harry' lived on, a wanderer, a drifter that didn't stay in one place for too long, never forming bonds. He realized that he didn't age or aged slowly, could take on someone's physical appearance, learn their entire history/background, and whole languages as if he'd been speaking them for life with indirect or personal contact, as well as speak to snakes, these abilities made him perfect for sabotage, recon and espionage.

Harry enhanced his skills with his dagger and collected more, some knives, scimitars, and his personal favorites were Japanese swords, but when all else failed, he called on Soria to kill as a last resort. He enlisted in the military once again to fight in WWI & II, but not on the American's side, thus he clashed regularly with James and Victor, something he looked forward to because when he fought the two brothers, he was always struggling to come out on top, forcing himself to become even stronger and think outside the box, strategize, it was never personal, as he'd told them the first time they fought, he was just looking to have _fun_, Victor seemed to get it, but James acted like it was an incredibly hard puzzle and there was a deeper meaning behind his actions.

(1973)

During the Vietnam War, Harry once again fought on the U.S.'s side, on the two brothers' side, and he wasn't disappointed. They hadn't changed too drastically, at least, James remained the same morally and personality-wise, whilst Victor seemed even more dangerous, animalistic, he could get along with either brother and the same was vice versa, he could relate to them as his adoptive brothers, and they seemed to sense that, showing amazing understanding of his mind, even though the words remained unsaid. That's why, although he was a bit disgusted Victor was so hard up he was going to rape a village girl, he defended the larger man along with James, and to his disgruntlement, he was sentenced to execution by a firing squad for his trouble, Victor finding the entire situation amusing.

When Major Stryker showed up, Harry was instantly suspicious; his friendliness just screamed 'bullshit', and being a part of this 'special team' seemed **too** good to pass up. But, seeing as it got them out of the military's custody…

"What exactly will this team be doing, Mr. Stryker?" Harry asked, petting Soria soothingly, looking at the man at the corner of his eye, drawing the man's attention as he was focused solely on the two feral mutants, another fact that concerned him. "You weren't planning on leaving me, were you, Jay, V?"

"Harry goes where we go...most of the time." Victor said nonchalantly, breaking the neck of the rat in his hold and tossed it aside, Harry hissed the command for Soria to eat, and she slithered off his shoulders to do as instructed. "Isn't that right, little brother?"

James snorted, but relented at Harry's faux kicked puppy dog look. "Yeah, that's right, bub. You want us apart of you 'special team', Harry comes along, too."

"Very well, the more the merrier as the saying goes." Stryker smiled, though it seemed a little brittle in Harry's eyes, he made the mental note to keep an eye on him.

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><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>

Harry didn't think much of his new teammates. Team X's swordsman Wade Wilson was funny about 44% of the time with his jokes and was attractive but was largely annoying because he didn't know how to **shut up**, teleporter John Wraith could be the only semi-respectable person with his manners and chivalry which made Harry ponder his career choice, "invulnerable" Fred Dukes was a little slow but easy to manipulate, electropathic Chris Bradley was an obedient fool, and the team's marksman, Agent Zero, well... he drew him like a bee to honey, yet repelled him as he recalled his former relationship so many years ago.

Currently, they were on a plane to Lagos, Nigeria. The purpose for this excursion was unknown as was par the norm, but if he knew Stryker as he was beginning to, it would end up bloody, and it always did, somehow, someway.

Coming back into awareness, opening his eyes slightly, Harry heard the gist of the conversation he'd been attempting to block out.

"—Kinda bulky, difficult to get on a plane, but whip out these bad boys at your ex girlfriend's wedding, and no one forgets, like ever." Wade explained earnestly. Victor gave a long suffering sigh. "Well, it's not as threatening as having a gun, or bone claws, or nails of a bag lady at a grocery store." He added antagonistically.

Victor growled low in his throat, a friendly smile on his face, as his claws lengthened. Wade tightened his grip on his sword. "Nail clipper?" Wade asked holding out the hilt of his sword.

"V, be easy." Harry murmured, keeping his tone calm, neutral. Victor relaxed again, leaning back in his seat. "I'd like to get some shut eye before we land, motor mouth, so I'd appreciate silence." he added to Wade when he smirked smugly making his smirk fall and Victor snorted.

At that moment, Logan decided to groan, garnering Harry's attention. "Are you ok, Logan?" Harry asked sympathetically; the shorter feral shook his head.

"Relax, Nancy. More people die in traffic than in flying." Zero attempted to be civil in a weird, utterly moronic way that would certainly rile Logan up in Harry's opinion. "How about impaling?" Logan retorted with a glare, Zero glared back. Harry sighed, giving up on being peacemaker. 'I swear they're like five year olds.'

"Be nice, or at least be your definition of nice. Now, do you need a bucket?" John Wraith, an African American male in rodeo clothes, asked as he smiled.

"No." Logan lowered his head and tried to concentrate on something else.

"Bradley, set us down, please." Stryker ordered. "We have need of your abilities, Harry, if you don't mind." It was easy to discern the tension between the two, but most chalked it up to being a problem with authority figures on Harry's part. "Whatever." Harry replied flippantly, ignoring Logan's warning, disapproving glance.

It was ridiculously easy to lure a sentry from his post. Throw a rock, make a little noise, and any inexperienced man would be jumpy at invisible specters, poor Mahan never even saw death coming until Soria wound around his neck and squeezed until he was unconscious, Harry pressed a finger to his temple, getting the layout of the building, the guards, when one left, when they switched positions, the timing, what the guards inside the building were equipped and outfitted for, etc. Then he said a little prayer and slit the man's throat.

Quickly changing out of his own clothes and donning Mahan's, he grabbed the fallen machine gun and walkie-talkie, someone was urgently asking for information. "Nothing to report, false alarm." Harry said in Mahan's, his, native tongue, injecting the appropriate amount of relief and boredom in his tone. The person on the other walkie-talkie was visibly relieved and it showed in his tone, a small part of him pitied them all before he forced it down.

Once it was time for the sentries to switch positions, Harry pressed a little button-receiver thing in his pocket that alerted Zero who was tailing him at a discreet distance, that the operation was a go, they'd infiltrated the place, now was only the clean up. Death came swiftly, once he shed his Mahan-disguise that fell away like water, revealing his true self, and the realization that they'd been tricked sunk in, it was too late as a dagger to the brain or heart stopped any thought process.

(In the elevator)

"The show outside was very nice, shame that Zero got the full view." Wade said in a suggestive tone, Harry snorted and didn't deign him with a response. "You know what daggers and swords have in common?" Not letting Harry talk, he steamrolled right over him. "It's all how you _poke_ and _**stab**_ someone."

"Very interesting theory, did you come up with that line all by yourself?" Harry said coolly, Wade's expression became mortified, especially when Bradley of all people chuckled, overhearing the conversation. "Shut it, light bulb, before I introduce my foot to your ass." he added curtly and Bradley didn't dare speak back.

Suddenly, the elevator lurched to a stop and was encased in darkness. "Oh great, stuck in an elevator with six guys on a high protein diet." Wade complained, purposely forgetting to mention Harry.

"Geez pal, do you ever shut up?" Logan sighed, annoyed.

"No, not when I'm awake." Wade retorted and Harry stifled a snort.

"Alright, alright, just shut up. You're up, Wade." Stryker cut into the conversation. "Thank you, sir, you really look nice today. The green brings out the seriousness in your eyes." Wade said casually-sarcastically, Bradley and Harry both snickered.

"Bradley, top floor." Stryker ordered pleasantly.

"Yes, sir."

(Top floor)

"—Ok. People are dead." Wade's voice brought Harry out of his musings; as they stepped out of the elevator, the evidence of his talent showing on the dead bodies that littered the floor, all save for one who sat in a leather chair, watching their approach.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." John materialized beside the black man who was sitting in his chair, moving his hand aside to show the gun he had hidden beneath the desk as Stryker strode forward unerringly.

"You can take the diamonds, they're yours." The man said in a faux relaxed posture.

"I don't want your diamonds, I want this." Stryker held up a black piece of rock. "That, that is nothing; it's a souvenir, nothing more." The man stated, confused. "Where did you find it? I want the source." Stryker leaned in close.

"A small village, it is about three days from here." _As if his information would save him_, Harry thought slightly bitterly, even as Stryker gave Zero the subtlest of nods and the man laid a subconscious hand on his gun.

More blood was spilt, although he wasn't very religious, Harry felt that all this killing would eventually catch up with him in the end, no evil would remain unpunished for long, it just depended on how long some form of punishment would arrive. It all came to a head when Logan, finally fed up with the senseless violence, wearily stated that he was through, and for a moment, Harry felt panic spear through him.

Without thinking, he took a couple steps toward Logan. "Jay..." Harry started, but Wade cut him off, Victor looked at him with wild, angered and betrayed eyes, Logan had stopped at his voice but didn't turn around. 'Am I not worth your attention? Don't go, don't leave me.' Swallowing the lump in his throat, Harry murmured. "See you 'round, James."

Logan kept walking and he still didn't turn around.

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><p><strong>Chapter Two<strong>

(Six years later, Canada, Canadian Rockies when Stryker meets up w/Logan)

"Come now, you two. There's no need for this pissing contest." The final person who stepped out of the car had Logan's full attention. Standing at about 5'9", thick, long black hair that fell to his neck in messy disarray, an aristocrat's face with heterochromia, the left eye being viridian and the right being turquoise, high cheekbones and a perfect, pert nose, twelve small hoop earrings in his left ear, dressed in army fatigue pants, a black muscle shirt, dog tags dangled from his neck and had _Basilisk_ engraved in the metal, wearing a heavy black trench coat.

"Do I know you, or are you a new lapdog of Stryker?" Logan inquired semi-politely.

"I'm _**hurt**_. You've _forgotten_ me, James." Seeing recognition beginning to dawn on Logan's face, the male arched a perfect eyebrow, smiling serenely. "It's a shame you won't help us deal with V, but I guess we'll have to do it without [you]." Harry trailed off, hissing slightly toward the end. Ignoring Logan's stiff posture, he hugged the feral man, breathing in his scent.

"It's time to go, Harry." Stryker called from the car, Zero was waiting.

"Be safe, alright? Watch out for those dangerous logs." Harry advised Logan with a sarcastic undertone, Logan smirked and flicked him off. Turning on his heel, the ravenette strode to the car, his face becoming blank. 'I'm sorry I can't protect you, James, but you abandoned me first and I'm a petty bastard that holds a grudge...'

"Any lingering sentiments?" Stryker inquired, looking back at Harry as Zero drove off.

"None." Harry said without hesitation and sincerely. To outsiders or those who knew him six years prior thought the fire had gone out of Harry, he'd become an obedient soldier. Not many knew that he'd been experimented on, his mutation further enhanced so that he had the mindset of a snake and his right eye was implanted from a child named Luna whose mutation allowed her to see the subjective future.

When Victor discovered what was going on, he was **furious** and threatened Stryker, the tests immediately stopped, after all Victor was unpredictable and uncontrollable, not someone to tango with on a bad OR good day.

The only reason Harry stuck around was because he worried for Victor, and...

(Harry's apartment, 1:53 AM)

"Anata ga koishii (I miss you, dearest)." Zero murmured into Harry's shoulder, his body completely draped over the smaller male's, pinning him to the mahogany door, pressing open mouth kisses along his throat. "It feels like forever since I've held you, kissed and tasted you."

"I know, it's rare for Stryker, paranoid bastard that he is, to let you have an off day. Since it's so memorable, no phones, no TV..." With blind movements, Zero's touches sending pleasant tingles all over and confused his senses; Harry managed to open the door, they both almost fell, but Zero hefted him up, placing him over his shoulder and with several quick strides, they were entering the master bedroom, falling on the bed in a tangle of limbs, kissing feverishly.

"Please, koishii." Harry pleaded. For a heart stopping moment, Harry felt that Zero would refuse as he was coming on too strongly. He almost didn't meet Zero's eyes when he insistently tried to look him in the eye, but his lover deserved that much respect at least.

"...Whatever you've seen, I trust you."

Zero pressed lightly against his shoulders, Harry sank down, Zero's weight shifting above him, between his spread legs, strong hands caressed his body, tracing old battle scars. Massaging the firm nubs of flesh, a forked tongue flicking lewdly across his nipples then below, stroking the growing bulge tenting his pants.

Harry writhed, flushing a deep scarlet color. Zero hovered above him, occasionally leaning down to press kisses to the feverish skin. "So, beautiful." The Asian male murmured, then he freed Harry's erection, it sprung forward aggressively. "And so eager." A low chuckle, a skillful hand wrapped around the base of his cock working it up and down. Panting he thrust into Zero's hand only for the apex of his bare thighs to be drizzled with pre-cum.

"Unh, please..." Harry whimpered, a few damp locks lay plastered to his forehead giving the hardened warrior an exotic, debauched look.

"Shh." Zero gently shushed, his hands leaving the trembling body flushed with desire below him to disrobe slowly exposing a long hard slab of chiseled flesh unmarked by war save for a few bullet holes and zigzags from some type of knife. "I'll give you everything, everything uniquely me." Zero promised, aligning himself against his impatient lover, hands gripped and lifted Harry until he was spread around the larger male, his cock pressed against the hard abdomen.

Excruciating pain rippled through Harry's entire being as he was entered. Zero's hiss of ecstasy came with powerful thrusts inside the tight hole, then, pleasure made his body arch taut like a bowstring; Zero's free hand snaking between their bodies and caressing his neglected length. Each sinful lick and tug on his rock hard penis fueled the fire raging in his blood.

"Ah..ah...ah..hahn..." As they rocked together, Harry could feel himself on the edge of something. Something that would change him forever. Then moments before he lost himself in the overwhelming crest of pure sin; it suddenly came to him that this moment was what he'd been waiting so long for.

Zero whispered into his ear, "You're all I've ever wanted." Soon, his thrusts lost their control and he finished pounding into the tight body with great spurts of hot seed. Easing from the semi-conscious male, he drew the Harry to his chest, soothing sweated locks down, nibbling bruised lips.

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><p><strong>Chapter Three<strong>

The dynamics of their relationship had changed. What had once just been occasional sex, there was now an almost heartbreaking tenderness that hadn't been there before, Harry could sense. After several days of simply making love and short breaks in between for food, never answering his phone despite Stryker calling repeatedly, leaving voice mails that were tinged with frustration and desperation, Zero reluctantly parted with him, both of them knowing he couldn't risk being accused of treachery, not yet.

"I'll be in Louisiana, I'm in the mood to gamble and make some quick cash." Harry informed Zero, straightening his tie and using it to tug the man down for a chaste kiss. Arching an eyebrow, but used to such cryptic remarks, he simply nodded and left the porch, quickly flagging down a taxi, the shorter male watching it drive off, a goofy smile on his face, and he entered the house with a soft sigh, feeling a bit like a lovestruck teenage girl.

Shaking off his euphoria, Harry walked down the hall and twisted the knob of a hallway closet that held several suitcases, opening one, he smiled as he saw a beautiful black sheath, golden dragons winding around it which contained a Japanese _katana_. 'Let the games begin, it's my move, Stryker...'

Bourbon Street was extremely crowded; even though Harry didn't expect much else. Both men and women were drunk off their asses, lingering around the bars our just out in the street, attempting to dance at the loud music that was blaring through the speakers that aligned the road.

Harry stepped into one of the many bars on the avenue; waitresses in skimpy outfits walking past him carrying a tray of drinks that could have only been alcoholic beverages. The scent of rum, gin, vodka, and smoke hit him like a wave. His eyes slowly scanned the bar, looking for possible exits, and then he saw Logan and Wraith. A light smirk tugged at the corners of his lips when he spotted cards flying through the air before landing back in the dealers hand; following by a small course of women cheering over the magnificence of the trick. It was a card trick never seen before, and no normal human could master it; regardless of skill.

Quickly walking across the room, he made sure that Wraith saw him. Moving his head just to the right, he avoided the man's sucker punch to the face, and blocked his jab that followed in succession. "Now, now, there's no need for violence." Twisting the man's wrist painfully, Harry smiled cheerfully at the black male. "I'm doing you a favor, honestly. I like you better alive than dead." With those parting words, he executed a karate chop to Wraith's neck, knocking him out instantaneously, slinging him across his shoulder, he whistled a little tune as Remy LeBeau sent Logan slamming through the wall, passing the two men and thus narrowly avoiding Victor who Logan immediately engaged in combat. He requested a room, ignoring the woman's high pitched giggling, and carried John up the stairs. 'Now, all I have to do is _wait_.'

(Once Logan realized Kayla was **not** dead and he'd been betrayed)

"I thought you were the moon, and I was your Wolverine, but all this time, I'm just a fool that got played." Logan said as he looked on at Kayla, the beginnings of tears in his eyes as he noted she only looked back at him impassively.

"This chick isn't worth getting upset over, James. Self-righteous women like this are just a dime-a dozen, nothing special." Harry said airily, raising his hands in the air mockingly as Zero pointed his gun at him at Stryker's nod. "Aww, no warm welcome, boss? I'm hurt."

"You're a traitor to the cause. Where did you hide Wraith?" Stryker demanded.

"Hmm, Wraith, Wraith? Where have I heard that name before?" Zero fired a warning shot, purposely missing. "Ok! Jeez, everyone's so intense these days." Harry pouted before getting serious. "I might have shown him the way in, and as we speak, he's helping all those captive mutant children escape." Just as he finished his sentence, he threw a white ball in the air and it released a blinding light, once everyone could see again, he was gone.

"Find him!" Before Logan could do anything, Zero obeyed, running out the door.

What no one realized, not even the puppeteer Stryker, himself, was that from the moment Harry received his eye that allowed him to see the ever changing future, he'd been working behind the scenes for his own benefit, preparing for the betrayal he'd subconsciously sensed from day one. He knew that the telepath Charles Xavier would be waiting for those children Wraith was guiding to safety, but that was only because he'd written a sob story that he, an anonymous and regretful soldier who "simply couldn't watch helpless, innocent children being abused any longer", would appeal most to the pacifist.

Although he knew Wade idolized and harbored an unsubtle crush on him, Harry had mercilessly exploited those feelings and abandoned him to experimentation in his place, there was so many horrific things he'd done in order to ensure his own survival, and the survival of James and Victor, Zero was a wild card, he could've went either way, but luckily he fell in love with him and the feeling was mutual.

Harry whistled shrilly, instantly catching Stryker's attention who had his gun out which he knew was filled with adamantium bullets that would take his adoptive brother's memory away, but he **needed** his memory. 'This is all that bitch's fault.' He thought to himself venomously. "See you in Hell, asshole." With his oldest and most favored weapon, Harry threw the dagger at the older man with deadly precision, cutting his hand off and drawing a ragged scream. Logan popped out his adamantium claws and sank them in his chest, piercing his heart and let out a triumphant roar as the light faded from his eyes.

"It's over." Zero stated unnecessarily, keeping a discreet distance from Creed, Wraith appeared, they all looked down at the man who was the source of such madness and torment. "It's _over_. What happens now?"

"No. It's not over, bub." Logan replied, voice oddly subdued. Zero looked at him in confusion, but the short feral wasn't looking at him, he was staring off into the sunset. "There will be more monsters like this one, they'll have all sorts of reasons to continue on with his work, some might be military, others could be fellow mutants. This is just the beginning."

"Well said, runt." Creed snorted inelegantly. The others all eyed him warily, except for Harry who only held his gaze calmly. "…I'm sorry I helped hurt you, but there's something Harry once told me when all this madness occurred." Victor admitted.

"What's that?"

"'Blood is thicker than water. Family is everything. Don't forget who you are, what family means to you'." Logan chuckled lowly, amused by their 'brother' yet again. Logan eyed him steadily and Creed returned his gaze, then the shorter feral eyed Harry who arched an eyebrow, a thousand words passing silently between them.

"I forgive ya." Logan said bluntly, holding out a hand, Creed knew that he had a long way to receive true forgiveness, but he was willing to wait, and shook the hand firmly.

"The cops won't like what you guys did to this place, we need to stop dragging our feet and get a move on." Remy appeared on the scene, and although paling at the sight of Victor, he showed remarkable restraint by not bolting.

"Don't worry about me, I'll find my own way." Logan cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders, turning around. "I'm sure the rest of'em could use a lift." Seeing Remy's uneasy gaze, he added, "Harry can keep Victor in line."

"C'mon, I didn't park the plane too far away." The brothers went their separate ways, no longer enemies, they were family…because blood was thicker than water, leaving the scene of destruction behind them. Hopefully they would be able to start a new life together, far away from the troubles and conflict of old.

At least until they meet a certain rogue…

* * *

><p>And that's a wrap. Please review and let me know what you all think, should I stop or continue? I decided to re-write <em>X-Men Origins: Basilisk <em>and _X-Men: Choose Your Side_ (crappy title, gonna change it), this version will have details that the other two admittedly lacked. In this version, Harry and Zero will be firmly neutral, not on either side yet strong enough to defend themselves from people who'd attempt to coerce them into doing their bidding.

Magic may or may not occur, the next chapter will (slightly) follow X-1's timeline/events, but keep in mind that this is AU, and X-2's storyline is sort of invalid as I've killed Stryker, so the villain for that needs some careful thought. The title of this story came from listening to _Eyes of the Devil_ by Seether, the first couple lyrics applies to Logan and Sabertooth, and then I thought about Logan's love life, how he detests his mutant abilities...


	2. Chapter 2

**X-Men: Life's The Greatest Chessboard**

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or X-Men characters mentioned in the story; recently I've become a fan of Gambit and Agent Zero, probably because they're both good looking men, or at least the actors who play as them are

* * *

><p>"Normal speech"<p>

~Telepathic speech/telepathy~

'Thoughts'

[Harry speaking to serpents]

_Flashback_

*Any language other than English*

* * *

><p><strong>Warning!<strong>: AU. Spoilers for X-Men and X-Men: First Class, dry humping, wanking (no sex this chapter, sorry), mild haemotolangia, slight masochism, and cursing.

**Pairings**: Charles/Erik. Brief!Harry/Remy. Harry/Zero. Jean/Scott. (Eventually, but not this chapter) Logan/Scott. Alex/Victor.

* * *

><p>"I have come to realize more and more that the greatest disease and the greatest suffering is to be unwanted, unloved, uncared for, to be shunned by everybody, to be just nobody [to no one]."—Mother Teresa<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>

All that we are is the result of what we have thought. If a man speaks or acts with an evil thought, pain follows him. If a man speaks or acts with a pure thought, happiness follows him, like a shadow that never leaves him. The evil that is in the world almost always comes of ignorance, and good intentions may do as much harm as malevolence if they lack understanding. Many know me by my mutant name Basilisk—and like the snake I am, I'll willingly swallow you whole…

(October 1982, Nevada, Colorado)

_**Freedom**_. It is such a peculiar word, even after the fact he's spent two or three years on his own. Perhaps it's because for as long as Harry can remember, he's been figuratively chained to his government in some form or another, whether it was as mundane as paying taxes and playing as a good citizen when he decided to join society, or cleaning up the unsavory messes from the shadows that humans made and were too lazy or ignorant to deal with themselves.

It was a hard, often thankless job, but seeing as they shared this piece of rock together, despite some of the more prejudice humans' protests, they were forced to co-exist in some manner and Harry preferred to live in relative peace even if it was just an illusion.

The fact that the remaining members of Team X didn't stay together after Stryker is finally killed and no longer hounding their footsteps isn't much of a surprise for the ravenette. Mutants are a species used to being persecuted and driven away, and their survival instincts almost always made it so that they were distrustful and wary, even of their own kind, so the fact that Stryker managed to string together their little disjointed group for so long is nothing of a miracle and Harry mentally applauds the dickwad for that much at least. If anything it has proven that when united and working toward a common goal, they can succeed.

But then again, Harry had already known that. He'd worked with a group of mutants before, a time before 'Nam, he was a different person back then. Naïve and foolish, disjointed by the reality that Nickolas was _gonegonegone_, he'd selfishly wanted to inflict the pain and suffering he felt onto someone else, many would dare say he'd gone insane a little bit, and had traveled to Bulgaria. For the first time he'd fought against his countrymen in WWI, fought against Logan and Victor, more importantly, seeing as no one else could really handle the two but him, although it was all for naught, the exhilaration, the thrill of hurting and being hurt, proving he is alive, damn it, is the greatest rush he could ever ask for so he goes back for more and more even though it takes him a long time to see that this devil-may-care attitude has a reason to cause Logan concern because it is not healthy.

He is jolted out of his adrenaline junkie fixation during WWII, the Holocaust to be exact. Hitler's regime and the Nazis bring to his attention with startling clarity how truly ugly the world is, amplified perhaps because he plays a dangerous role of tormentor and being tormented, carefully using his powers working as a soldier at a concentration camp half the time while the other half he masquerades as a young Jewish boy where he coincidentally meets and befriends Erik Lensherr. It is horrific either way, and he is guilty-angry-sad-unstable; it is instinctive to hide the numbers inked into his skin now even if he rarely looks in the mirror anymore.

After that, Harry simply aimlessly wanders for awhile, meeting other mutants, some friendly, most not, like a ghost, drifting without purpose. Albus Dumbledore **THE** strongest telepath in the world (despite Xavier's weak protests, not even he can keep the elderly man out of his head) takes pity on him when he is at his lowest, vaguely considering suicide and gives him a job at his candy shop. It is something to do and he is ridiculously happy—that is until Xavier and Erik come a-calling for help against Shaw.

Rightfully, Erik is angry at Harry, he very nearly strangles him to death with a spoon, a spoon of all things, Charles yells hysterically in the background, begging and pleading for him to **stop** while Harry laughs and laughs until tears fall down his face, especially when those horrible numbers are revealed, and Erik is truly **LIVID**.

"—_He's not truly well, my boy, and he hasn't been for a long time." Albus says solemnly, looking at Erik sadly over his half moon spectacles, Erik looking at him wildly, deranged almost. "Enough, Harry. Calm your mind." The man gently chastises the almost cackling man whose head is in his lap._

"_But Albus, it's such a lovely joke. Don't you get it my friend; now, now my past comes to kill me, ahahahahahaha." Harry chortles, but when no one joins in and Albus just looks at him with those sad eyes… "I miss Nickolas, he would laugh. He loved a good laugh, you know?"_

"_I know, Harry. Believe me, I know."_

Despite Erik's vehement denials, Harry is brought along more or less willingly, cajoled by Albus' insistence of closure and (if possible) earning forgiveness, but seeing as Erik continuously glowers at him at every given opportunity, he doesn't really see that happening any time soon, if ever. Still, he cleans himself up and calmly, if not a little repeatedly, explains to an uneasy Charles that Soria is a very tame (when it suits her, not that he needs to know that) serpent, and is intelligent enough not to attack without his explicit instructions, also, _**yes**_, he needs to bring along his weapons, as he feels defenseless and terrified without them, not something he wants to see, he assures the Oxford graduate again and again.

Meeting Logan while on their little recruitment spree is more or less unexpected, the feral mutant is his usual prickly self and getting drunk, or at least, enjoying the taste of the beverage seeing as his accelerated healing doesn't allow him to feel the effects of a hangover. In a rare moment of composure and lucidity on his part, Harry finds that he is touched by his concern.

"_Feelin' alright, shrimp?" Logan grins, signaling to the bar tender for another glass of whatever he's drinking, judging by the color, Harry's pretty sure its whisky. Nodding but silent, he watches the feral's Adam's apple bob as he swallows, and raises his finger again for another. "Good, then. Nice to see you with your shit together, I'll pass on…" Vaguely he waves in Erik and Charles' direction, rolling his eyes a bit. "'S'not my thing, being crowded by others, get agitated. Plus with Victor…"_

"_Ah…" Harry mutters, trailing off, feeling awkward and disappointed, sure he could change Logan's mind after the other two had failed._

"_Yeah. But, if you ever need anything—else, call me up or come down. I'm usually here or in the area and will be for a little bit longer." Seeing Harry's expression, or probably smelling that he's going to do the girly thing and cry for some inexplicable reason, Logan adds a bit hastily. "We'll do the woman thing and exchange numbers and whatnot, but if you call me up all hours of the night, I'm gonna put my foot down your ass."_

"_Fine, fine. Thanks, Logan."_

Thinking about old times makes Harry feel ancient which is ridiculous. He _is_ old, a bit older than Logan and Victor, not that the two know, or at least, they never ask. Perhaps he is feeling sentimental, recalling the good times when he's a G-Man (he still snickers with juvenile mirth thinking about the title), or even lonely because it's been 20 years since everything happened in Cuba, and he's pretty sure most of those mutants are dead, starting a family, living normal lives, or wrinkled/getting wrinkly.

But it could also be because Zero, despite all his proclamations of love and who he's connected with the most, has gone AWOL a year ago without a word. Not even a note or fuck you very much, yet Harry's not petty or desperate enough to seek the Asian male out. Simply packing up his bags and with the clothes on his back, he rides the bus to where Albus had last called him and knocks on the older man's door until he answers. That's when he allows himself to cry.

"I know my dear boy, I know, hush. It's not your fault, come inside…" Albus said calmly, soothingly, gently tugging the ravenette inside.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Two<strong>

(Myrtle Point, Oregon, 1990)

Living by yourself can be lonely, but learning to _live_ by yourself is infinitely harder. It's a process, Albus repeats to him when he's really feeling down and depressed, but Harry figures he's managed to do a good job so far. At the very least, he's learned to be patient and wait things out, not that he didn't already do that before, but still, he's more calm and in control of himself than he was eight years ago.

Rejoining society takes a bit more cajoling on Albus' part, but Harry is done feeling sorry for himself. Every day when Harry wakes up and begins his morning routine of showering, brushing his teeth, getting dressed for a jog around the neighborhood, re-showering, and going to work, he tells himself semi-silently that despite all the negative shit he's done in his lifetime, he deserves a little goodness, too.

"Hello. Haven't seen you around these parts, lovely." Someone drunk, a little obese, not that Harry really cared about that type of thing, but smelly and really very desperate pressed up against him while he's attempting to enjoy the rum the bartender recently poured in his glass and it annoys him, greatly.

"Well, I'm sorry for you, good chap. With my smashing personality, you'll find it hard to forget me, yeah?" Harry retorted drily, jabbing the man blindly in the gut forcing him away with ease. 'Fucking idiot…' "How are you tonight, Maverick?" he asks politely toward the elderly waiter.

"I'm doing alright, Harry." The man replies as usual as he wipes the glass in his hands. "See anyone you fancy in the crowd?"It's a game between them, one they have played perhaps one too many times. Before he can answer though…

"Bozos and idiots. My man, Harry's quick and sharp, his words venomous and capable of leaving any blind date in tears, this guy wouldn't take any of these fuckers home if he could avoid it." Rough and raucous, familiar laughter greeted Harry's ear and he looked up, meeting Alex Summers' eyes, or rather, a man who looked a lot like him in his mid-twenties.

But that couldn't be possible…could it? "You look like you've seen a ghost dude. Stop staring at me, ok?" Alex remarked, taking a seat beside Harry. "Pour me a little something on the rocks, would ya old timer?"

Meeting Alex is like Harry's forced into devastatingly hot weather after being in winter continents forever. His forceful behavior, his mannerisms and hotheaded attitude haven't really changed since the time Harry met him as a teen and while it's refreshing, it should be impossible, and it seems a little too good to be true… as he repeatedly tells his former student.

"Dude, you're like really hard to track down. I'm talking 'needle in a haystack'. Professor X looked for you a lot after all that shit went down in Cuba, but I guess you were blocked or something, or you know…" Alex trails off uncomfortably and Harry does know and feels a small margin of guilt. "Anyway, you just vanished in the confusion of everything. You missed a whole lot of amazing and weird shit…"

Hungry for information, Harry doesn't care to be subtle. "Tell me." Understanding his desire to know, Alex doesn't tease him for being eager and just explains. "It starts shortly after you tore into Erik about Professor X nearly getting shot…"

"_Did you truly believe that simply killing Shaw would solve everything, then or now? You're still so very controlled by your rage, and in the end, it will be all you have left. For God's sake, you nearly killed Charles with your indifference. We know you can manipulate metal, but he can't. If I hadn't deflected it, he would be paralyzed from the waist down." Harry snarled lowly at the arrogant metal bender, sheathing his favorite tanto._

"_Don't talk back, I know what I was do—" Erik is abruptly cut off when Harry punches him in the face, uncaring of the fact that his limbs are almost immediately immobilized. "__**Never**__ put your hands on me again."_

"_*Wie traurig sind die Helden gefallen wenn sie gar nicht sehen, dass sie gefallen für die gleichen falschen Gefühl der macht, die ihre "erbfeind" früher einmal war*." Harry spat in German, his limbs tightened almost uncomfortably, but he didn't show discomfort on his face. "*__Nie dachte, sie würde genau das tun, was jemand anderes für sie geplant zu tun. Sehen Sie, wenn sie weiterhin mit dieser vision von dir, du bist nicht besser als Shaw*?"_

"_I am nothing like Shaw." Erik protested vehemently, his attention divided between the missiles, Harry, and Charles. 'Am I…?' his eyes unwittingly strayed to Charles, his best friend, and if he were admitting to the truth, his lo—_

"_You are right, Erik. You're both right, but if you go down this path, you will lose sight of everything except the ends justifying the means. Standing beside Charles instead of fighting him will prove that Shaw is not your puppet master from beyond the grave." The missiles wavered in midair, but Erik's eyes didn't leave Harry's. "*Proszę, bracie*." Harry's voice cracked toward the end of the sentence._

_Erik's Adam's apple visibly moved as he swallowed, and with great reluctance, he lowered his hand, the missiles blew apart harmlessly midair. "We're going, all of us. No one gets left behind."_

"I didn't do much except knock some sense into his head, about time that someone did, anyway." Harry shrugged modestly. Alex shook his head incredulously, taking a sip of the coke he'd bought from a vending machine. "It's not really that shocking."

"Mutant kind's made significant strides in the right direction because you 'knocked some sense into his head', Harry. Fighting that guy would've been next to impossible to defeat because I mean, shit, if you thought he was cool back then, he's only gotten stronger now." Harry raised an eyebrow but didn't comment and Alex flushes for some reason.

"Anyway, Professor X's house, he's made it into a school. 'Charles Lensherr-Xavier's School of Gifted Youngsters', from as young as kindergarten to high school, and when that's done, there's a whole other wing where professionally trained teachers, mutant and human, take the students who want to attend college and its affordable, it's pretty impressive."

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Three<strong>

Charles Lensherr-Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters at first glance is a school that can easily be overlooked, but with a second or third glance, it would be remiss for anyone not to become enthralled with the lush landscape, the majestic architecture that whispers of ancient secrets and generally welcoming atmosphere but if all else failed, there is one secret ingredient that has increasingly gained the school more and more infamy over the years.

"Welcome to the school, Hadrian." The years had been kind to Charles Lensherr-Xavier or Professor X. True, he isn't exactly the picture of youth that Harry recalls, but perhaps that's why he is so nice to look at, he has a presence that commands attention and respect, yet he also radiates compassion, understanding, and gentility. Never did Harry think he would be jealous of someone getting old, but as they say, 'never say never', and all that.

"You've been an exhausting individual to track down. For a little while, I'm able to get a track on you by using Cerebro before you're existence is completely wiped out, or blocked from me, so you've either got some impressive shields or someone's been hiding you deliberately."

Harry smiles sheepishly. "Um, I'm sorry?" Charles only smiled but didn't say anything, waiting patiently. "It's a bit of both. Albus has been teaching me to keep a subconsciously shield my mind from invasion and shielded us both from detection when we decided to move."

Charles makes a sound in his throat that's caught between amusement, intrigue, and mild surprise. "I see." Harry shuffles his feet awkwardly, wanting to say something, but he doesn't know what to say exactly. ~There are a few people who are as anxious to see you as you've been to see them. May I?~

Harry's hands twist in his lap and he clears his throat before he shakily exhales and calms his mind as Albus repeatedly instructed him to do. "Yes…?" There is a cursory knock before three of the singularly most important people in his life entered Charles' office, each of them valued and treasured in their own way to him. "H-Hi…"

Erik and Logan are both too shocked to do much more than stare, but Victor has no such qualms. Harry is forced to look all the way up in order to meet Victor's gaze and appraise him, but it's not impossible. Long, dirty blonde hair was held together with a black hair tie, but if the tie is removed, Harry has no doubt it'd reach his back and shoulders, wild and untamed like he truly is, despite the custom tailored black suit and slacks, all one would have to do is look in his eyes which are a deep shade of brown, borderline black with no visible pupil.

"Breathe. It would help if you breathed, cub. If you blink, we'll still be here." Victor's voice is whispery and soft, yet commanding, so different than his younger days, but similar, familiar. "That's it, you're fine…"

"Damn, we really fucked you over." Logan, as always, is blunt as ever. But beyond that, Harry can hear the self-loathing and fury at himself, so without thinking, he stumbles into the shorter feral's embrace despite his stiffened form, and hugged him, wanting to make it better, wanting to **feel** better. "…We've missed you too, kit. Victor's right, we ain't going anywhere."

"Erik…" It is a piteous sound that escapes Harry's lips, but he could not bring himself to care, he holds his hand imploringly out to the physically eldest of their little group, who'd been keeping himself aloof while the reunion went on. "*Bitte*."

"…*Sollten Sie gerade wieder zurück kommen. Es war töricht, so leiden unnötig ... Aber, ich habe sie verpasst, so bin ich bereit zu verzeihen und versuchen sich Vergangenheit*." Erik's touch is by far the most gentle, perhaps because he understands so intimately how close to the edge he is and Harry cannot stop the torrent of tears that come this time.

Trust does not come easily as it once did for Harry, and his desire to become a part of the large, disjointed and dysfunctional family that walk in the halls of the school is not instantaneous. Truthfully, everyday is a struggle just to be there, but as Charles and Albus (when he manages to get him on the phone), outside observers, repeatedly tell him to take it one day at a time, so he does.

A year into his time at the school, Harry ran into his ex-lover, Zero, their double agent who works for the CIA and answerable only to Charles, almost sets his progress back to the drawing board. Alex, or Havok as he repeatedly tells him, his best friend, besides Erik, is understandably pissed off (on his behalf) when he gets the full story of why he wants to leave, but what he said is truly the final nail in the coffin and makes him want to stay, to change and recover.

_"I know you old timers have lived a difficult life - it's formed you to be what you are," Alex began, expression serious after Harry finished talking, his bag open on the bed. "I don't know if you'll ever recover. The truth is: your biggest downfall is perhaps you don't __want to __recover."_

_Harry looked slightly taken aback and a little hurt. "Explain."_

_"You're unable to let go of the past - in more ways than one. We should always __remember__ the past - but we can't live in it, you try, though. Clinging to the past, destroying your future and you don't even realize it. If you don't stop what you're doing, you'll never have to let go of the past - and you'll be frozen in it forever."_

People are dealt a bad hand sometimes, some slightly more worse than others, but always, always play the hand you're dealt, that's what Remy LeBeau, a charismatic and understanding mutant/master thief that occasionally works for the X-Men (for a fee, of course), taught Harry during their week long romance they had while he was staying in the States.

Remy is a good friend and confidant, but they both know they're too different to truly work out, still, it gives Harry some confidence that a man that sexy would want to take a tumble in the sheets with him, and if Logan comments slyly that Zero almost shot the taunting Cajun out of jealousy, he tells himself half heartedly that he doesn't find that amusing or a teeny, tiny bit arousing.

'One day at a time, perhaps I'll eventually fall out of love with him…'

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Four<strong>

(Laughlin City, Canada, 2000)

Ten years, it'd been ten years since he re-met his brothers, Erik, Logan, and Victor. Ten years since he nearly ran like a coward until Havok lit a fire underneath his ass. Ten years since he decided not to officially join either the X-Men or the Brotherhood, although there were no real sides, X-Men were the poster child of mutants, while the Brotherhood worked behind the scenes as the enforcers. But to a guy like him, ten years isn't really anything at all.

'Wow, I'm really old.' The thought didn't bring Harry pain as it did before, he could smile and laugh, and he actively encouraged the few mutant kids who gravitated toward him to accept their differences, that they were mutants and should be proud of it.

It certainly didn't happen overnight. His mutation kept evolving and thus his features changed too. There was a milky white film that moved up and down, covering his eyes as he blinked, a clear film moved up and outwards over the surface of his eye from the inner corner, closely followed by the milky film, which acted like a second set of eyelids, he could see through them, but they obscured the color of his eyes. His pupils had changed shape, going from being round to being slitted.

Running down the length of his spine, from the back of his neck to the crease of his ass were dull, bright green scales that shined violet when in direct light, oddly enough, they were hard and had tiny ridges running down the length of them, but they were as warm and natural feeling as the rest of his skin. His teeth had become long, pointed; automatically, his forked tongue flickered out past his lips. He had discovered that it acted sort of like a second nose, only it was much more sensitive to pretty much everything. His tongue – like a snake's – could detect minute vibrations and changes in the air. It could tell him what species someone was just by tasting their pheromones. Harry's nails were long and pointed, very thick and strong, thankfully still clear in color, so while strange, they didn't attract much attention unless pointed out specifically.

While most were put off by Harry's appearance, the handful of people who mattered to him weren't judgmental and even commented about the appropriateness, though Remy had always had lighthearted jokes about bestiality, wrapping his arms around him and hugging him tightly to soothe the sting of his words.

As for Zero, while still a little distant, talked to him late into the night about everything and nothing, why he was afraid to commit so long ago despite his promises, his life before Stryker, he often gave him quiet, longing looks and a soft smile when they had to part ways, so it was safe to assume that he didn't just want sex, he wanted something deeper, but Harry wasn't exactly ready to just jump headfirst into a relationship or bed again, despite Havok's cajoling.

'Focus, Harry, focus.' Harry sternly warned himself just as the girl Charles had been tracking, Ana Marie, entered the establishment as Logan, his partner for this little operation in case something went wrong, boredly chewing on a cigar, back to the crowd. The latest challenger kneed Logan hard in the back, making him fall with a loud thud onto the floor, cigar falling from his lips. He then proceeded to repeatedly kick Logan in the side before stepping back and accepting a few high fives from the crowd.

Logan got up as if his blows to the ribs had done absolutely no damage to him whatsoever. With how hard he was kicking, he should have broken a few ribs! However, he raised his fists and prepared to deliver another one, this time to Logan's chest. Before the punch could reach him, Logan raised a hand and met with the others own. The man pulled his hand back, a scream being torn from his lips, agonizing pain rippling through his knuckles.

Logan growled and then head butted the other male, sending him down to the floor in a heap of pain. Cracking his neck, he made his way back over to the corner of the ring, pulling out another cigar. There was now mixed emotions from the crowd, booing at the Wolverine's win and the others loss. Once the place was a little empty and Marie looked like she was going to go, nibbling her bottom lip anxiously did Harry decide to approach her, giving her his best, nonthreatening smile he could manage.

"Hi, I'm Hadrian Potter, but please call me Harry. Have you ever heard of…"

(At the school, late that night)

_How could I be so stupid  
>I had you in my arms<br>But I let you slip away_

"I don't know where I stand with you, Harry." Zero said quietly, without his many weapons, mainly guns and holster, he looks like any other ordinary man. Well, as ordinary as you can get when you can kill, disarm or incapacitate someone in a dozen different ways in a few short seconds.

_I want you back  
>But now it's too late<br>I've already said goodbye  
>And now love has turned to hate<em>

"You know, a part of me still despises you for how you left me despite how you explained your reasons to me. I can go on and on about how I want to rip you a new asshole, live my life with someone else and be happy. To be honest, in a way, with you doing this to me, I guess I can even say I hate you." As Harry continues to speak, Zero's expression closes off little by little and his Adam's apple bobs several times as he visibly swallows.

_I want to go back in time  
>And fix all that was wrong<em>

_Change all of my regrets_  
><em>So we didn't fight as long <em>

_The regrets are what fucked it up_  
><em>And they were all my fault<em>  
><em>I was so immature<em>  
><em>I should of acted like an adult <em>

"I guess I deserve that then." Zero whispers. He tries to smile a little, but his muscle memory has spent too many years in disuse to attempt such a feat, and after a minute or two, he stops trying because he really has nothing to smile about anyway. Pinching the bridge of his nose, turning his head a little, discretely checking his face, it feels hot to the touch and he knows if he were a normal man, he'd probably be in tears by now. "I'm not going to justify it. Everything that went wrong in our brief relationship was mainly my fault. If I could go back in time, I'd probably kick my own ass."

Harry appears unimpressed with what he's said. "Zero, just say what you need to say. I'd like to go to bed some time tonight."

_I broke my own heart_  
><em>When I walked out on you<em>  
><em>Now it's too late<em>  
><em>And I can't undo <em>

_I still love you_  
><em>But nobody knows<em>  
><em>We are no longer together<em>  
><em>Because of what I chose <em>

"You already know what I'm trying to say, but it all sounds like a bunch of cliché bullshit, even in my head." Harry shook his head, holding up his hand as if to say 'I'm done' as he turned on his heel, but Zero is a few steps ahead of him and boxes him in between the silverware cabinets and his own body. "Because of the mistake I made, we're no longer together. I can't undo what I've done, yet I still love you. We're not together because of what I chose." And then he leaned in for a kiss.

_It was a bad decision_  
><em>And now I want you here<em>  
><em>Never far away<em>  
><em>Always near <em>

At first, Harry doesn't respond to Zero's touch, his eyes widening in shock, yet his second and third eyelids instinctively remain shut. Once his mental facilities finally catch up with what's going on, without thinking about it, Harry smacks the Asian male hard across the face. Zero recoils from the blow, breathing heavily, pressing the heel of his palm to his sweltering cheek, his normally dark brown eyes almost pitch black. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that Zero's getting turned on by this, if Harry had any doubt, the increasing bulge in the front of his pants is a dead give away. "You've got to be kidding me."

The sheer disbelief in Harry's tone almost makes the Asian snicker before he reaches for the ravenette again, getting in a few light, lingering kisses in quick succession, grunting a little as Harry hits him in the chest and backhanded him, his nails drawing blood causing his eyes to darken as he smelled it, his forked tongue darting out to taste the air. 'Getting into it, finally...'

~I'm going to have to ask you two gentlemen to retire to your quarters before you continue any further. This _**is**_ a school...~ Charles' voice is suddenly in both their heads, sounding bemused, and while it brings them some measure of embarrassment, they are too enthralled with each other to think overly deeply about it just yet.

(Harry's room on the second floor, first door on the left at the end of the corridor)

For a little while, all Harry and Zero do is kiss each other slightly clumsily and desperately. With every teasing, purposeful nip Harry makes, the more excited the Asian male gets, and he strains in his pants at the deliberate torture, his hand cautiously reaching out to dip in the other man's pants, but Harry's almost bruising grip and sudden hard glint in his eyes makes the gunman rethink that strategy as it is clear that he doesn't have the privilege of taking Harry fully just yet.

"Please." Zero whispered, shifting forward to rub his clothed erection against Harry's, delighting in the quiet gasp he gains from such a simple gesture. "Please. Let me..." Harry drapes an arm over his eyes and after a heartbeat or two of simply breathing, he nods quietly.

Unzipping both their pants, Zero finds himself impossibly tighter as Harry's gone commando, but he doesn't focus on that right now, he licks the underside of his penis, drawing a ragged moan from the serpentine male beneath him and pumps himself in time with his strokes. Perhaps it's because they're both so eager, or it's been so long, but it doesn't take long for them to reach completion.

Harry squirms uncomfortably and tries to stand up from the bed, but Zero clutches him closer. "I just want to wash off, I don't want it to dry and get sticky."

"In a minute, just let me hold you a little longer." Zero murmurs, his chin resting on the top of Harry's head. The ravenette struggles futilely for a moment before sighing and nodding, giving in. The gunman kisses his cheek and dozes off for a little minute, Harry following after him.

It is not perfect, their future is not guaranteed, but for the moment at least, they are content.

_So please take me back_  
><em>And catch me when I fall<em>  
><em>'Cause I need you right now<em>  
><em>More than anything at all<em>

* * *

><p>And that's a wrap. Tell me what you think in a review, keep going or stop? Hmm, I'm proud of myself, I finally got this chapter to come out the way I wanted it to, but it took me scrapping it several times. Don't worry Zept, <em>Just For You<em> is in the works at 48% completion, I will post that chapter up ASAP.

Anyways, this story has hints of a deeper connection that Harry has not only with the members of Team X, but Magneto and Professor X, I wanted to do a back story for the time Harry spent as a child trying to protect Erik, but that just turned into a whole different story with a Harry/Magneto pairing. Would anyone be interested in that?_  
><em>

Translations and Minor Details

(German) Wie traurig sind die Helden gefallen wenn sie gar nicht sehen, dass sie gefallen für die gleichen falschen Gefühl der macht, die ihre "erbfeind" früher einmal war: How sad the mighty have fallen when you can't even see that you've fallen for the same false sense of power that your 'mortal enemy' once did.

(German) Nie dachte, sie würde genau das tun, was jemand anderes für sie geplant zu tun. Sehen Sie, wenn sie weiterhin mit dieser vision von dir, du bist nicht besser als Shaw: Never thought you would do exactly what someone else planned for you to do. Don't you see that if you continue with this vision of yours that you're no better than Shaw.

(German) Bitte: Please.

(German) Sollten Sie gerade wieder zurück kommen. Es war töricht, so leiden unnötig ... Aber, ich habe sie verpasst, so bin ich bereit zu verzeihen und versuchen sich Vergangenheit: You should have just come back. It was foolish to suffer so needlessly...But, I have missed you, so I am willing to forgive and try to move past this

(Polish) Proszę, bracie: Please, brother.

Logan and Sabertooth's reference to Harry's new nickname: Wolverine babies are called kits, while sabertooth babies are cubs.

Harry repeatedly referring to the fact he is old: X-Men Origins Basilisk begins in 1844, but according to the author, he is already about nine or ten, which makes his birth year being some time vaguely around 1833-34. There is no clear definition of just how old Logan and Creed are, but judging by the maturity of (child) Creed's face, he is about ten to twelve, and (child) James Howlette is about a year or two younger, if not more sickly. Thus, Harry is the oldest although Creed takes on this role more dominantly than Magneto and Logan is like the middle child.

X-Men Origins: Wolverine takes place sometime a little before the American Civil War, through both World Wars, and roughly ended some time around 1979, while X-Men made its debut in the year 2000, so according to logic, the fanon world, and other little nuisances, Alex "Havok" Summers is actually the **older** brother because X-Men: First Class takes place during WWII, progresses eighteen years (1962), but Scott appears in Origins, which happens AFTER First Class (the producers should correct this).


End file.
